JP – Kibuye, Rwanda

My father was a doctor before the genocide. They tricked him to drive on the road to the hospital to help people. They hacked him to death with machetes and then went after my seven brothers and sisters and mother and killed all of them. I am alive because I hid out for three months in a septic tank where my friend every few days would lower some food to me.

You can never forgive. It is absurd and anyone who says they can forgive is not being truthful to himself! Only the next generation will be able to forgive, but you can get past it. I must carry the loss and sorrow always with me. If I see my father’s murderer in the street and he greets me, I simply tell him to ‘go away. I am not your friend or forgiver. Stay away from me as I might hurt you. I do not want to be a killer like you. I have my future and my wife and children.’

Soweto, South Africa

She supports her family living in the slums of the Soweto Township by manufacturing stuffed animals to sell in the local market.

Abdulsalam – Palmyra, Syria

I was working at a hotel in Palmyra and learned that tourists wanted to have an authentic Bedouin experience. So now, I take people out into the desert on camels to have dinner and stay with my family in our tent.

Palmyra, Syria

Early one morning I took a walk through the Bedouin community outside Palmyra. On seeing a lone, Westerner, they invited me into their tent for morning coffee and breakfast and to visit with their ten-day old baby. Other than ‘assalam alaikum’ (hello) and ‘shukran’ (thank you), no words were shared. However there was a deep human connection.